


Not Meant for Him

by QueenDollopHead



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Implied Future Non Con, M/M, Merthur if you look for it, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-02
Updated: 2014-06-02
Packaged: 2018-02-03 03:00:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1728611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenDollopHead/pseuds/QueenDollopHead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“It’s all the same story, really,” Uther explained.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Meant for Him

**Author's Note:**

> Italics are my drug, I apologize.
> 
> Written with thoughts of Merthur pining, but no mentions of it, sorry!

“You know, Arthur’s birthday used to be _miserable_ when he was younger.”

Merlin did not dare move a muscle or reply. It took every fiber of his being not to let his magic lash out at his captor, although he could hardly call him that, considering there were no restraints keeping him in place. In fact, the only thing keeping his naked body still was the fear of the man that lay on his side next to him. “Not just because it marked the date of my queen’s death, but also because I never knew what to get him.”

Merlin’s heartbeat tripled as Uther’s gloveless hand cupped his cheek and turned his face towards him. The older man was still fully clothed from head to foot, complete with the royal crown atop his gray head. “It was as if nothing could keep him occupied for long, the chess board, his first shield, his first sword," Uther paused, scoffing. "A blunt, wooden one, with the Pendragon crest carved into it, a beautiful piece for a child… he lost it within three days.” The king was quiet, his gaze staring beyond the man beneath his rough, calloused hand. Moments after, he smiled nostalgically and continued.

“He outgrew everything over a period of months, and it seemed as though my effort was wasted trying to get him something meaningful. Year after year I had to buy something else- affording it was never the issue, it was the principle of getting him something that inevitably would lose meaning to him.” His hand left Merlin’s cheek, cascading down his slender neck and pausing briefly at the base to trace his profound collar bone. Merlin pushed his shoulders back into the bed, willing his body to melt into the mattress to escape Uther’s deceivingly gentle caresses. Even with magic, he could not quite do that yet. “One year I had a sword made for him that was just a little too long for him, knowing that he would tire of it in just a few short months. Sure enough, he did.”

Uther laughed as his hand resumed its downward journey, slowly moving down his chest as his eyes followed the path. “Which is why I had it made for _me_ , so it at least wouldn’t go to waste.”

Merlin could not help himself this time, he turned his head away from the king. His chest trembled beneath the king’s fingers and his horrified stare darted from the treacherous hand on his person to the bed canopy above him. He finally closed his eyes upon realizing that nothing he looked at made the situation any less real. “ _Look at me_ ,” Uther commanded, and he did. Merlin looked at him as tears fell from his eyes, his jaw tensed and relaxed repeatedly while he fought back sobs. Uther seemed to appreciate the sight, and he smiled in return. “That’s better.”

Soon enough, Uther’s gaze left Merlin’s once more, fixing instead on his pale figure lying stiff on the lush bed sheets. Well, not _completely_ stiff, _'Not yet, at least'_. The King thought with a chuckle. Rough fingertips left light strokes on his taught stomach, and he smirked as the boy shook with the chill that he could not stop. “Finally, I realized it was much easier to just throw a feast for his birthday, complete with only the best food and entertainers in all the kingdoms.”

_'He could have me executed.'_ Merlin told himself as he fought the will to turn his head away once again. He could not protect Arthur if he was dead. The king was not even looking at him anymore, so why should _he_ have to look at him? _'Because he’s the king, and if I don’t cooperate, he can kill me.'_ The tender assault did not cease, Uther traced each individual rib that appeared more prominent with each inward breath from his captive. Merlin gasped at the first of sensitive touches. _'He should kill me'_. If Uther held all of this power, it seemed silly that whatever it was Merlin did wrong required this sort of punishment, as opposed to execution, or even imprisonment or exile.

“What did I do?” Merlin finally sputtered out, his voice cracking. “What did I do to deserve this, why are you telling me all this?”

Uther stilled; he blinked and fixed his glare on Merlin. His face certainly did not give any answers, but it was obvious that the older man was _not_ happy. “You spoke out of term to your king just now, boy,” he ground out, making Merlin wish he had not spoken at all. But then, Uther smirked and tossed his head back, letting out a dark chuckle and chilling Merlin’s blood. “As for your question, it has little to do with what _you_ did, and more with what my _son_ did.”

This confusing utterance did not stop the spinning in Merlin’s head, he tipped his chin upward so that he was looking at the king from over his nose. It seemed like the rational way to distance himself from him. Either way, Merlin learned his lesson, he was not about open his trap again anytime soon. Besides, he had a feeling that Uther was not yet done speaking.

“It’s all the same story, really,” Uther explained, counting of Merlin’s ribs once again. “It was kind of me to treat my son to something really, truly special, and once again he has wasted it.” Merlin began to panic as it seemed that Uther was beginning to run out of places above the belt to touch him. Still, he listened attentively, waiting for the king to at the very least give him the answers he desired. “That serving girl... Guinevere, is it? She now holds all of his attention, and as expected, I find my gift to him tossed carelessly aside. Forgotten for something that he believes is more worth his time.”

Uther’s ringed index finger followed the path of hair starting from Merlin’s navel and leading down towards his untouched, private region. Merlin whimpered helplessly and Uther stopped. He looked at the tear-streaked face of his son’s manservant and reached up to caress his soft cheek, smiling admirably at the wondrous sight of his delicate cheekbones and bright blue, watery eyes. “You see, Merlin, I really don’t like when beautiful things go to waste. And I absolutely _hate_ when Arthur doesn’t play with his toys.” Eyes trained on the dark, knowing ones of the king, Merlin felt a hand tighten around his hip before he noticed it had departed from his face. With a gasp, Merlin _finally_ understood. His stomach twisted in horror, and Uther leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Is it really so bad if a father plays with his son’s toys..." He leered. "When they were never meant for him?”


End file.
